


jump scares into your heart

by warsfeil



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-08 00:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14682483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warsfeil/pseuds/warsfeil
Summary: In which Shu and Nazuna have a date. A horror movie date.“Are you scared?” Nazuna asks, glancing at Shu without moving his head.“No,” Shu lies, very quickly, attention half-riveted to the way the television glow reflects off Nazuna’s skin like a painting, and half-drawn to the television screen as a little girl makes her way to a closet in the dead of night.





	jump scares into your heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a commission! ♥ I spent half an hour trying to remember if Nazuna canonically liked horror movies or not before deciding it didn't matter, so he likes them in this.

Shu uses the good china, when there’s company he cares about over. While the fact that Nazuna now counts as _company_ instead of merely a regular fixture in the Itsuki house is moderately distressing to think about, it’s an opportunity to break out his great grandmother’s china, which he hopes is an honor not lost on Nazuna. He would happily break every piece of china in the cabinet if it meant Nazuna would be happy, however -- 

Right now, he’s regretting not using the regular bowls. His grip on the bowl is too tight, the cold of the contents sinking into his skin and the condensation gathering making everything that much more precarious.

“Are you scared?” Nazuna asks, glancing at Shu without moving his head. 

“No,” Shu lies, very quickly, attention half-riveted to the way the television glow reflects off Nazuna’s skin like a painting, and half-drawn to the television screen as a little girl makes her way to a closet in the dead of night.

“We’re only ten minutes in,” Nazuna says, looking back at the television. “It’s going to get worse from here!”

Shu shivers so violently at the thought that his spoon rattles ominously against the bowl. When Nazuna had presented the idea to Shu, Shu had been so charmed by the phrasing of it being a date that he would have agreed to absolutely anything in the world that Nazuna wanted to do, but he has a singular regret about the entire endeavor now that he’s actually sitting down to watch a horror movie.

The girl on screen reaches for an open door that slams shut, and she and Shu shriek in unison. The only thing stopping Shu from winding up with ice cream down the front of his hand-made needlepoint lace cravat is Nazuna’s hand, which reaches out to grip onto the bowl before it’s flung too high.

“You sure you aren’t scared?” Nazuna asks, and there’s a smile in his voice that makes Shu’s heart skip a beat even if Nazuna is being terribly, vehemently, _unimaginably_ cruel. “We can stop watching.”

“No,” Shu says, with a sniff, because there isn’t a single force on earth that will make him actively try and avoid doing something that Nazuna wants to do, even if it’s something as appalling as watching a horror movie about -- haunted closets, or whatever the actual plot is. Shu has been trying very hard not to pay attention. 

Nazuna makes a soft humming noise. It’s effortless musical, as beautiful as anything else Nazuna produces, and Shu is endeared despite the rest of the situation. Nazuna hasn’t removed his hand from Shu’s bowl yet, either, and when he tugs on it gently, Shu allows him to take it. Nazuna calmly tilts Shu’s bowl into his, letting the half-melted ice cream combine between them.

“Nito, did you want more ice cream? I can go get you some,” Shu says, lifting off the couch before he can get more than halfway through his speech.

“Oshi-san,” Nazuna says, reaching up to delicately hook two fingers into Shu’s pocket. Shu freezes, lifted six inches off the couch cushion. “I’ll hold the bowl.” Nazuna sets Shu’s bowl to the side, spoon still safely within the porcelain surface.

“Of course,” Shu says, doing his absolute best to not let his voice convey how unexcited he is to sit back down and continue being exposed to the most mediocre films within the horror genre. (Privately, Shu thought that _all_ of the horror genre might be mediocre -- especially modern films!) 

Shu lowers himself back down to the couch, flinching slightly when there’s another particularly loud scream from the television speakers. Shu can’t blame the little girl; he’d scream too, if his mirrors started abruptly bleeding when he was trying to get ready in the morning. He opens his mouth to try and make a comment on it, something suitable derisive that could minimize the quake of anxiety in his stomach, but then Nazuna scoots a little closer until their thighs are pressing together on the couch, and Shu Itsuki, age eighteen, promptly dies.

At least it _feels_ like he dies; he’s almost certain that both his heart and lungs have stopped working, to say nothing of his brain. Nazuna wiggles in a little closer, then rests his elbow on Shu’s thigh, holding the bowl of ice cream between the two of them.

“We can share like this,” Nazuna says, glancing at Shu, who very much thinks that right now the television must be more interesting than the shade of pink he is absolutely certain his pinks are turning in this precise moment. 

“Ah,” Shu manages, trying to restart his mind. He usually has longer to collect himself, but Nazuna excels at keeping Shu almost constantly a little more on his toes than Shu would strictly like, given Shu’s affection for having every aspect of his life perfectly planned and scripted far ahead of time. Nazuna is a wrench in Shu’s cogs, but one that isn’t designed to impede but to _improve_ , which keeps Shu’s anger at bay but certainly not his anxiety. 

Nazuna, Mika, and even Shu himself have all been rapidly evolving from what they were, their relationships tangling and then sorting themselves back out into a new form, and even if Shu is on a date with Nazuna (perfect, untouchable Nazuna), it’s an advancement that Shu is never quite prepared for no matter how long he spends preparing in front of the mirror.

His mirror that, thankfully, doesn’t bleed or conjure up demonic images like what’s currently on the television screen.

Nazuna takes another spoonful of ice cream that’s really more like cold cream soup at this point, and then offers Shu the spoon.

“It’s getting a little messy to eat,” Nazuna says, moving the bowl a little further into Shu’s space. Nazuna moves with it, a little more of his weight on Shu’s leg, a little more of the scent of his conditioner wafting up into Shu’s face.

Shu has never before in his life given much thought or regard for the concept of indirect kisses. 

He is remedying that very, very rapidly. He takes the spoon from Nazuna, and it’s only Shu’s carefully maintained control that keeps his hand from shaking. He eats a spoonful of the ice cream, and it tastes absolutely horrible, slightly below room temperature strawberry milk with too much sugar, but it’s still the same spoon that has been in and out of Nazuna’s mouth for the past fifteen minutes, and so Shu savors it perhaps a little more than he should.

“It’s melted,” Shu says, helpfully, unnecessarily. 

“It’s still good when it’s melted,” Nazuna says, and proves it by tilting the bowl back, pressing his lips to the china, and promptly _drinking_ the rest of the ice cream.

Shu is fairly certain his face is equal parts disgust and quiet fascination, because he doesn’t think it’s possible for Nazuna to do anything that would make Shu love him any less, but “ice cream soup” might actually be more objectionable than “leaving Valkyrie”. 

Nazuna leans away from Shu, and for a brief second Shu is afraid that he made his revulsion too apparent on his face, but it’s only to stack his bowl neatly in Shu’s old one, letting the spoons fall together in Nazuna’s empty bowl with a sound that makes Shu cringe internally.

“This is a good part,” Nazuna offers, sliding back into place next to Shu even though he doesn’t need to, now that ice cream is out of the picture. Shu is fairly, reasonably, almost one hundred percent certain that means that Nazuna is doing it because he _wants_ to, which is distracting enough that Shu forgets himself and glances at the screen in time to see what appears to be some offensively costumed demon crawling out of an attic space to chase after a mother. 

“That’s appalling,” Shu says, forgetting to be scared entirely in light of how poorly designed that outfit was. “That was-- was that an American theme? This is a Japanese film, yes? Why would they give it hooves like that? They haven’t even bothered to match the fabric at the seams!”

“It’s scary, right?” Nazuna says, slipping his cold fingers into Shu’s.

It’s almost enough to derail Shu’s abrupt tirade. Almost.

“It’s _horrifying_ , which I hardly think is the same thing, Nito,” Shu says, carefully flexing his fingers and letting Nazuna thread their hands together in a gentle hold. “I’ll certainly have nightmares about it. What’s next, a ghost with an unfinished hem? Will they even bother to press the seams? Is the terror in this movie _meant_ to be that there exist someone that was, presumably, well compensated for this absolutely dreadful wardrobe?”

“Wait until you see the vampire,” Nazuna says, leaning his head on Shu’s shoulder. 

“If the vampire is in an improperly fitted corset, I’m going to be forced to turn this movie off.”

“After the vampire is a ghost with a kimono made of satin.”

Shu’s shriek has absolutely nothing to do with the movie, this time, but Nazuna laughs anyway.


End file.
